The Accidental Time Traveller (4 page)

Yes, then what? I took a deep breath and tried to think of something. It worked. A plan flashed into my mind. If Agatha was a boy, things would be much easier. She could be one of my pals and could join the gang. She could even come to my house. Not that girls were bad, but I had never brought a girl home before and girls were not allowed to join the gang. It would look seriously weird if I suddenly brought a girl home, especially somebody who dressed like she did. I smiled at her.

“Hey, Agatha, I’ve got an idea. I’ll bring you some proper clothes. You’ll have to get rid of all that hair. I’ll say you’re a new boy at school. You’re a good actor. You could pull it off. Then you can come to my house. You could even come to school. And you can join our gang.” I nodded, all excited now. It seemed like a great plan. “You have to be a boy cause no girls are allowed in the gang. If you’re going to hang around in the twenty-first century for a wee while it will make life easier. I mean, till we figure out how to get you back. At nights you can sleep here. We’ll make it nice and comfy.”

She gazed around, not appearing at all freaked out like I would be if it was me going to sleep in the den
on my own. “It is a right bonny place,” she said, then winked at me. “I am but a girl, it’s true, but one used to taking care of herself. I will be grand.”

“I’ll bring you food,” I said hurriedly. “And me and Will and Robbie will look after you, and you can tell us the next bit of the story.”

She bent her head to the side and gazed up at me. “And yea will help find a way of returning me to 1812?” She spoke so quietly I could hardly hear her.

“Sure.” I nodded vigorously but the truth was I had no idea where to start even thinking about that. Did she think I had special powers? Did she imagine by the twenty-first century humans had pretty much sussed everything out? Was I expected to turn into Doctor Who and build a time machine?

“Very well,” said Agatha, smiling and looking a whole lot happier, “I will pretend to be a boy of the future, and yea will assist me in my return home.” She lifted her hand up for me to shake it. I did, then turned, ran up the garden and dashed through the hole in the hedge. I hurried over the wasteland, then sprinted, slithered and slid all the way home.

I burst through the front door just as the church bells clanged three o’clock. I had made it!

Later, in my room, when I lay on my beanbag worrying just how I was supposed to get a girl back to history, I wondered if bells could be part of my time machine? I still had that 1p left of Milky Way change. I went to the window, opened it and leant out. I knew our tiny back garden wasn’t the river Tweed, but figured wishes are wishes. I tossed the coin into the snow.

“I wish that I can help get Agatha Black home. And I wish that I win the history prize so I can get a bike.”

And while I was at it, and because three seemed like a wishing kind of number, I whispered into the night, “And I wish Crow would back off and stop threatening me, so I don’t have to be scared anymore.”

That evening, still Saturday, 15th December, while Mum was putting the twins to bed and Dad was out working (because Saturday nights before Christmas are his absolutely busiest time), I got busy finding disguise clothes for Agatha.

As per usual, I had no credit on my phone, but I was allowed ten free texts at weekends so I sent Will and Robbie a message.

SOS. GANG MEETING 2MORO 2PM IN DEN. TOP SECRET.

Then I found a thick red hoodie, a pair of blue trousers and a black t-shirt. I laid them out ready, next to the scissors. I could hear mum making herself a cup of tea in the kitchen. I nipped through to tell her I was going to stay in my room and read my history book because I was going to have a go at the history competition.

“Is this my son we’re talking about?” she said, cheekily. “Can this possibly be Saul Martin, who avoids homework more determinedly than any child I know?”

“Aw, Mum, give me a break. I’ve always been kinda interested in history.”

“Really?” She raised her eyebrows to the ceiling. Then she smiled and gave me a hug, turning all soft and mumsy. “Sorry, sausage. That’s terrific you like history. I didn’t know. But hey, if I can help with your essay, just ask.”

“Thanks Mum,” I said, and I made a funny face at the twins before dashing back to my room. So far, so good.

My phone was beeping.

CAN’T, GOT TO VISIT GRANDAD.

That was from Will.

CAN’T. GOING TO WINTER WONDERLAND. YO!

That was from Robbie.

I felt miffed. If Will was any kind of proper gang member he’d wriggle out of visiting his grandad. What a wimp! And if Robbie was any kind of friend, like he always said he was, he’d invite me to Winter Wonderland too! I would love to go to Winter Wonderland. Every year I wanted to go to Winter Wonderland, and every year Mum said she’d think about it, but did we ever go? No. And now the twins had arrived, we never would. I picked up a ragged old teddy and threw it across the room, remembering how, every year, Robbie told me how fab it was and how he skated like a pro and went on the big wheel and ate candy floss and hotdogs and
loads of sweets. This year was going to be the same.

I started to feel sorry for myself, until I remembered Agatha. Compared with her I was fine. I gazed out the window. The moon and stars were out. I felt pretty guilty leaving her in the den, but what else could I have done? I wouldn’t sleep there on my own for a thousand pounds. 1812 children were pretty brave. That could go in the essay.

Children back two hundred years ago were braver than children of today’s modern world. They didn’t have lights so they got used to the dark.

Sure, I was angry with them, but I knew there was no way Robbie was going to give up his trip to Winter Wonderland. So I texted back.

HOW ABOUT 10 AM?

They both texted back

WILL TRY

What a gang! Here was me, the leader, ready to let them in on the biggest secret of the century, of two or three centuries actually, and they say, wimpishly: will try!

Me and Dad usually do our thing on Sunday mornings (unless he has to take somebody to the airport). While Mum fusses over the twins, Dad makes a fry-up, then after breakfast me and Dad usually have a kick about. I wondered how Agatha would be in goals? My plan was to get up early the next day, rush over to the den, turn Agatha into a boy then bring her
(him) back for breakfast.

I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow then didn’t wake up till half past seven. It was still dark outside. Lying there all groggy with sleep, I couldn’t quite believe in the time-traveller’s daughter. But then I saw the blue jeans, red hoodie and scissors laid out on the floor.

I got up and pulled my clothes on. I glanced out to the street. Dad’s taxi stood in an orange pool of light. The snow hadn’t melted during the night and across the road in Sam’s garden I could see the eerie silhouette of a snowman. I didn’t like thinking too much about Sam. He was ok, but Crow was his cousin. Crow stole kids’ pocket money. He dropped litter and didn’t care if anyone saw him. He’d been banned from every shop in Peebles. Once he let down the tyres of Dad’s taxi, and if he spied me he made his eyes like evil slits and ran his finger across his throat. He was seriously bad news. And what had I ever done to him? Nothing! Robbie said he picked on boys who didn’t have big brothers. Robbie said Crow didn’t need reasons. Some folk just annoyed him! I wasn’t exactly thrilled, thinking about going up to high school. If Crow found out about the den, he would trash it, for sure.

Dad said for me to ignore him. Trying hard not to think about him, I stuffed Agatha’s clothes into a rucksack. I slipped the scissors down the side pocket then scribbled a note in the kitchen for Dad.

Then I went out. When I reached the laundrette I hovered for a while, checking the coast was clear. Once I was sure no one was lurking in any doorways, I made a mad dash up the lane and over the wasteland. I was excited. This was the biggest adventure of my life so far. It felt great to be out as the sun was coming up. The sky was pink and the black branches of the trees were like long witchy fingers. My footsteps crunched down in the snow. Forget Robbie’s expensive Winter Wonderland. I was in the real thing, and it was magical.

As I got closer to the hedge I kept an eye out for signs of a fire, but there was no curl of smoke. I was halfway through the hedge when I heard the sound of Agatha singing. I stopped and listened.

“
In dulce jubilo,
sing with hearts aglow…” She had a beautiful clear voice.

Without rustling the holly, I stepped out into the garden. The singing was coming from inside the den. I took a few steps over the snow, waited till there was a pause in her song, then knocked on the door of Pisa. The singing stopped. “It’s me,” I called in a loud whisper, “Saul.”

“Good morning, Saul,” she called from inside the den. “Please enter.”

I did, and what a surprise. She’d made the wee place like a real home. Somehow she’d managed to gather up the embers from her fire and now they glowed in a little tin plate in the middle of the floor. It was so warm in there. She’d even brought in some branches from the evergreen tree and put them about the den for decorations. It felt really Christmassy. She was sitting up in my sleeping bag with just her head popping out. She had taken off her flouncy hat and her long curly
hair spilled down almost to the ground. I swallowed hard, thinking how I planned to cut it all off.

“Did you sleep ok, Agatha?” I plonked down on one of the stone seats.

“What is ok?”

“It means alright. Fine. Cool.” I racked my brains to think of what the O and K actually stood for.

“Majestically well,” she said, “and I wasna alone.”

“What?”

She saw my startled expression and laughed. “Three wee broon shrews snuggled up with me,” she explained, “and then, the most stupendous visitor – a young roe deer rubbed its head against the door in the middle of the night. I admitted him and in he trotted. The poor creature was that frozen. He curled down at my feet and slept there till the dawn. So I was warm as toast, in right pleasant company, and not a whit afeart.”

“Oh! Right. Great! It’s just, I was kind of worried about you.” I felt more than a bit miffed that all the time me, Robbie and Will had been in the den we’d never seen a deer. “I thought you might have been really scared.”

“Och no, Saul. Dinna fret on account of me.” She reached over and patted me on the hand. “If I needs must remain in the future for a few days, while we are planning my return, then at least I have this fine wee house. And remember – this is my grandfather’s garden. Nothing terrible can befall me in Grandfather’s garden. His spirit will watch over me.”

“Great. Anyway, Agatha,” I said, thinking how we better crack on with business, “I bought you some
clothes.” I rummaged in the bag and pulled them out. “This way you’ll look normal and folk won’t get suspicious.” I handed them to her. “So I’ll just go outside and you can put them on.”

Agatha stared at the jeans like they might bite her. At the risk of sounding obvious I said, “You put your legs in there, and zip up.”

“Zip up?”

I mimed pulling a zip, with a zzzzzzip noise for effect. “Then,” I went on, “you put the t-shirt on and the hoodie. It’s pretty straightforward.” I stepped out into the garden, leaving her to get on with it. It was light now and the low sun slanted onto the snow, making it peachy coloured.

“Yea may enter,” Agatha called after a few minutes. I did and what a change! She’d put the hoodie on the wrong way, with the hood like a bib under her chin. The trousers seemed a bit big, but apart from that she was beginning to look normal. I picked up the scissors and snapped them shut in the air. Agatha winced.

“We should get this bit over and done with quick.” I took a step towards her. She screamed and ducked. “Chill,” I said, “I’m not going to stab you. I’m only going to cut your hair.”

She clutched at her hair. It was longer than any hair I’d ever seen. It must have taken years to grow. “Hey, relax, it’ll be fine, and it means we don’t need to hide you away.” I gabbled on, trying to make this sound like a great idea. “You can come to my house for breakfast. Cause, the thing is, I don’t exactly have friends who are girls, but I’ve got loads of friends who are boys.
You’ll just be one of them. That way, nobody will think anything of it.” I took another small step towards her. “It’s not that there’s anything wrong with girls. It’s just, we don’t have any in the gang.” I lifted the scissors into the air, and smiled.

“So,” she said, staring wide-eyed at my sharp weapon, “well-made bucks in your time dinna have tresses?”

“Well-made what?”

“Bucks. Boys. Oh help!” She sunk her head into the hood and her muffled cries of “No, Saul, I beg yea,” really got to me. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to be cruel. She’d asked me to help. So here I was, trying to help and it was freaking her out. I sighed loudly and flopped down onto the floor, waiting for her to drop the hood.

She whimpered. “When I take Pug onto the market square for him to do his tricks I also make as if I am a boy. I twist my hair up into a tweed cap. I smudge my face with dirt.” She lowered the hood and peeked out. “Have yea no tweed cap?”

“That won’t work, Agatha. Anybody could pull the cap off. And anyway, I don’t have one.”

I heard her take a deep shuddering breath. “In that case, I agree. Forgive me for being in a frightful temper.” Slowly she shook out her hair. “Yea are in the right. I am in a fearful predicament that requires desperate measures. Caring for my tresses is but idle vanity, and vanity is a great folly.” She gathered her hair and swept it back, thrusting out her jaw with determination. “Cut it off,” she ordered, then shut her eyes tight.

I hadn’t thought about a style. I took a long curl. It felt silky between my fingers. I took a deep breath and chopped it off level with her ear. The scissors weren’t very sharp but I kept going, hacking and snipping. Bit by bit the long red hair floated down and all the time Agatha sobbed quietly. She kept her eyes closed. Eventually all the long hair was gone and she now had a fairly messy cropped hairstyle. I took a step back and examined her, like I’d seen real hairdressers do. Yep, she was beginning to look normal.

“Finished,” I announced, trying to sound chirpy. Agatha wiped her tears and opened her eyes. “It’s pretty smart,” I said. “In a messy kind of way.” I wasn’t joking, it really was, but Agatha didn’t seem convinced. I smiled at her. “It’s… er… short,” I said, lamely. “And… nice, and…”

She stared at the red hair on the dirt floor while I ran out of things to say. Slowly she brought her hands to her head and patted her short hair. “It is done,” she said, “and now I will need a boy’s name.”

“Yeah. I’d been thinking about that. How about Gareth?” I suggested, pushing the cut hair away with my foot.

Agatha shook her head. “Randolph,” she declared. “It is my absolutely favourite name. I have always dreamt of being Randolph.”

Randolph sounded as old fashioned as Agatha. “What do they call you when you take your performing monkey out?” I asked her.

“Monkey boy.” She frowned. “And that is no proper name for anyone. No, if I am to be a boy, I will be
Randolph!” She looked so eager. Personally I didn’t like the name one bit, but it was obvious she adored it. “Ok,” I agreed, putting the scissors back into the rucksack. “And another thing, Randolph, if I’m going to show you to the world, you’re going to have to speak like me. Or folks are going to guess you’re from the past.”

Agatha shook her head and rolled up the sleeping bag. “No Saul. People might imagine I hail from a strange place, or have curious manners – but they willna guess I come from history.” She grinned at me, and with all that long curly hair gone she did look boyish. “But dinna fret. I will make every effort to appear normal. I will model myself on yea.”

“Well, for a start, it’s
you
, Agatha, not
yea
.” Then I laughed, not sure that modelling herself on me was the best idea, but kind of liking it at the same time. I made myself comfy by the little fire. We still had an hour before Will and Robbie turned up. And two hours before I was expected back for food. Dad would just be getting up now. He’d see the note. And he’d set an extra place. Everything was going to plan. And now that the hairdressing thing was over, we could chat. I’d been wanting to hear more of her time travel story. “So, Randolph,” I said, “tell me more, like yesterday. Your father told you time travel was his path to greatness. And you said you’d help him, right?”

“Yes, poor Father,” she said, “He needed help from someone. My first time-travel experiment took place when I was eleven years old.” She sighed and her whole body shuddered. I felt more than a bit spooked.